She’s never in a rush.
You won’t catch her running through the grocery store or fumbling with her purse at checkout.
Her steps are deliberate. Unhurried. Heavy with meaning.
And somehow… they draw you in.
When she walks past, there’s no perfume trail, no flashy outfit, no dramatic toss of the hair.
Just a subtle sway.
Just the soft click of a heel—or maybe even just the whisper of a sole against pavement.
She moves like someone who knows you’re watching… and doesn’t mind.
Each step is a test.
A dare.
An invitation you’re too mesmerized to decline.
And when she turns a corner—when she disappears from view—you don’t just want to follow.
You need to.
Because that walk says more than any conversation ever could.
It says:
“You may think you’re chasing me… but I’m the one leading.”
And by the time you realize it, you’re already too deep in to turn back.